Condemned Woman
by MariaPurt
Summary: What if seconds before Catherine's execution king Henry finds out she's pregnant with his child? Dark angsty story, and a rather big one.
1. Chapter 1

**This story goes after the ep 12th of Reign and ignores the 13th episode for good. I haven't forgotten about 'Medici Blood' (that story is finished, so I just need to upload it). Please, don't forget to review as that's the biggest inspiration for all the writers :D This story will be all up before the 13th ep airs, so keep your eyes open. The first chapter goes to Nostradamus, the second one is Francis saying his teary goodbyes to his mother, and then of course there are two huge chapters of Henry being... king Henry :D Yes, this story is fully written as well:)**

Her heart was beating loudly, hitting the ribcage with every blow. The corset that she always wore in the past years, felt like it was killing her itself. The air was heavy, and her breath stopped every now and then. Her throat was on fire. The whole body of the queen was trembling so much that — it seemed — she'd fall onto the dirty floor of her cell if it wasn't for the guards holding her. The beats in her head were counting down the last moments of her life — there it was, the servants helped a half-conscious woman put on the shoes, while the guards held the queen by her shoulders. One of the soldiers reached out for a rope, and the other one touched Catherine's hands to put them together. It wasn't that they were afraid of her escaping — she barely stood on her feet. And she had no idea what was wrong with her — the last thing she wanted in her final moments was to be so volnurable. The rope touched the queen's wrists — and they were now tied in front of her.

In the last few weeks the tower turned to be both a performance stage and the place of punishment for Catherine. The king knew how to hurt his wife the worst: and with every new attempt he became more and more wicked. The short truce they had after a night together vanished, burnt in the flames of her adultery. There was no nostalgy in the world that could heal Henry's hurt pride, because not only his wife had slept with another man and gave birth, but it was Henry's best friend who she did that with.

At some point Catherine hoped back then, while skinning her wrists with the sharp dirty cuffs, that the king would hear of her cuicide attept in the Queen of Scot's chambers. But even if his majesty knew what happened, he never reacted and never came to visit his wife. It was probably because he was only told one side of the story: the one where an evil Italian witch tried to kill poor Mary again..

For several weeks in a row Catherine was left alone in the tower, with no visitors allowed. Heavy chains — a brutal present of the king's bastard son for Catherine's attempt on his bride's life — would barely allow the queen to get up from her hard prison bed. It was one of those days when Catherine thought she was going crazy, when the door to her cell opened. Usually that meant the food was coming.

They never let Catherine have her meal on her own — probably fearing she'd escape using the iron plate or a spoon. Instead, the guards stood next to the woman, watching with a hidden joy how she pushed the untasty food down her throat and how the chains made her so very sloppy. None of the guards ever spoke a single word in the queen's presence — for all those weeks she was kept in silence. Catherine wouldn't be surprised to know that her husband threatened to kill anyone who'd speak to Medici.

Until that one day when it wasn't the guard who brought her food. It was Nostradamus who carried a tray with unbearably ugly meal towards the queen's bed. He must've found a way to convince the guards to let him in, because starting from then, he often visited the condemmed queen in her cell.

«Hello, my old friend» Catherine said trying to get up on the bed as carefully as possible. The injuries on her wrists hurt like hell — if they weren't taken care of, she'd be dead of ganrene way before the execution would take place. Perhaps it wasn't a regal way of dying — but all the same it had more grace in it than the queen's head being chopped off and rolling down to the feet of the castle servants...

...At this thought — or maybe because the guards tied her wrists all too tight with a rope — Catherine started to faint, almost hanging on the guards hands. The corset — even though it wasn't tight at all — squeezed the remains of the air and sanity out of the queen. «I don't want to die» - she kept whispering, again and again, while her mind traveled back and forth between now and then. Between the last spectacle Henry was going to make her a part of, and that happy moment when Nostradamus found an explanation for Catherine's being under the weather all the time. No, back then it had nothing to do with her being hungry most of time, nor was it being unable to move — those things mostly influenced her mind...

As it appeared later, Nostradamus came to his queen not as much to tell her of her health condition or about his new vision — but to add some potions to her food. Seeing the queen's pregnancy as her only way of surviving the execution, the seer wanted to make sure she wouldn't loose the baby on the early stages. But Catherine refused to tell the king that she carried his son in her belly even after there were no longer any doubts about her being with child. Instead, she asked Nostradamus to help her save the child, to escape to Italy. And the faithful old friend couldn't refuse his queen. That was what he'd be torturously executed before the queen today for— for her to see the suffering and death of her friend before her own head would be chopped off.

At a thought of blood Catherine felt sick — so very sick. She started coughing, shaking desperately.

«Your Majesty» her maid said, helping the queen to sip some water from a glass and involuntarily touching Catherine's belly hidden under the corset. The old servant - whom king Henry appointed to help the queen prepare for the execution - was shocked and scared to find out about Catherine's pregnancy while dressing her this morning. How could a king execute his pregnant wife? The old woman didn't know what to think, so she just did what she could to ease the poor queen's suffering...


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews, ladies! We all know our Queen will be saved in tomorows episode, so I really wanted to post this story before that. Well, oops, there is still a pile of pages to go - including the execution itself, the baby-knews for Henry and the way he faces them... and of course some bed time (but very angsty). Oh, and explenation as to why Catherine never told Henry of her pregnancy in the first place. Stay tuned, and long may Catherine and Henry reign.**

«I'll walk on my own» Catherine said, her voice barely audible; but the guards still heard her. They looked at each other — just moments ago the queen nearly lost consciousness, and even now she was still dizzy — that much was obvious — and she was trembling. Uncertain, one soldier stepped away from her — Catherine lost her balance for a time, but remained standing. The other soldier let go of her arm leaving her to stand in the middle of the room all by herself. He bowed and waved towards the door: it was time to go.

The maid, still holding a glass half filled with water, slipped out of the room as quietly as possible — stumbling upon Francis on her way out, bowing and quickly disappearing on the stairs heading down.

«There's still time» dauphin said stopping near the entrance: he again looked around the empty dark chambers of his mother's and then approached her. «Leave us» his voice was calm and cold. His heart was pounding and ready to jump out.

The king hasn't yet received a word from Vatican about Sebastian and therefore Francis was considered to be the heir. When the king was absent, Bash was left as the regent, but as soon as his father returned, all the privileges went back to Medici's son.

«Yes, Your Highness» - the guards bowed. As soon as the door behind them closed, Catherine found herself in her son's arms. She was weak, so weak — but the queen still tried to hug her child back — only to be reminded that her wrists were literally tied together now. So they stood like that for some time — a mother and a son — her tied trembling hands pressed to his chest, his warm arms resting on her back.

«I'm sorry» Francis began and stopped. He'd want to apologize for everything his mother had done for him; for everything he couldn't do for her. For all the cruel words he told her, for... He'd want to do all those things, but what would it change? He'd want to clear his conscience — to tell his mother how much he loved her, how he did everything he could to save her — God was his witness, he did way more than he was intending to when a week ago he'd returned to the court.

Perhaps, had he known of his father's plan to execute the queen, Francis' chances of saving his mother would be better. At least she wouldn't had attempted to escape. A rather pathetic attempt for which Nostradamus was about to be quartered in front of the castle. Henry now simply did not believe anything Catherine did or said could possible be true. _Everything that came out of her mouth was a lie,_ he said over and over again. No matter how desperately and passionately the woman made it sound: the plea to give her poison and a fake suicide by hanging — everything was a lie; and the king kept reminding Francis of it every time the dauphin tried to talk to his father of reducing the death sentence.

Francis even tried to bribe the guards to take his mother away from the castle and hide her — but the soldiers were too afraid of the king; no money of threats helped. The only thing Francis refused his mother was poison — not because he was afraid what his father's reaction would be, but because a suicide was one of the biggest sins for a Catholic, and he couldn't let his mother burn in hell forever, no matter how she begged him...

So instead of the selfish attempts to clear his conscience and ask for his mother's forgiveness Francis whispered to her ear — as quiet as he could for the king's guards next to the door not to hear him. «I paid twice what the man asked. He'll chop it off with one blow and as painlessly as possible». Catherine jerked. Raising her head from her son's shoulder she tried to smile — a grimace full of tired fear still looked motherly warm. _Her little boy was all grown up._

«You will be a great king, sweetheart». She knew her son did everything possible. Impossible And unthinkable. It was never an easy task to change Henry's mind, and once his hurt pride was in the picture, it was time to wave a white flag.

Catherine gave up after her attempt of escape failed dramatically and she was returned to her cell in the tower. Her husband came to visit her. He was furious - and so instead of showing respect to his wife's will to die for their sons, Henry was yelling all the ugly things that night. His harsh loud voice was hitting the stone tower walls, flying around the castle creating all the new gossips and burning the remains of Catherine's hope of survival. At some point the queen herself was screaming back at her husband — if it wasn't for his power lust, if it wasn't for his desire for England, their small sons wouldn't have had targets on their backs. Lost in the passion and fire of the argument Henry even rose his hand to hit his wife on the face — the woman dared to tell him he only needed young mistresses because of his man weakness — but he stopped inches from Catherine. Instead, he pushed his wife towards the prison bed as strong as he could, turned on his heels and stormed out of the cell, still clenching his fists and burning with his eyes whoever happened to be in the king's way...

Catherine straightened her back, lightly pushing Francis away. Her mind pictured all the monstrous images of the condemned people whose heads were chopped off with blunt axes, blow by blow adding more agony to the torturous suffering of the poor people. She knew — somehow she did — that the family or the convicted person had to pay a bribe to be killed quickly. She only had to hope now that whoever was about to end her life, that he didn't hold a personal grudge against her.

All she had was hope for her feet to stop trembling so strong with every step, for her mind not to be this dizzy when the moment came to face the chopping block. With her head held high she was to challenge the king for the one last time... Catherine didn't see much as her vision was too blurry when she and Francis started walking towards to exit from the tower…


End file.
